Hey babe.

by Lori Dwyer on February 5, 2011 · 94 comments

I get the feeling that writing letters to my dead husband on my blog may creep some people out a little. I’m OK with that.

Heya Tony,

Hey babe. What’s happening? Where the hell are you anyway? I mean, I know, dead. I just wish I knew what your head space was like.

That’s hard. Because I know, especially now, with that dreaded hindsight. how freaking stressed you were about all that stuff going on. Why didn’t you tell me? It was all so fixable. We could have done it together.

You know, I found a fresh packet of cigarettes in the car tonight? Yours, no doubt. I remember you saying, on that last afternoon, “Where are my f**king cigarettes?”

In the car, you goose. Where you always left everything.

But they helped, those cigarettes. because why would someone who was going to kill themselves buy a fresh pack of cigarettes, when they already had some left?

That would sound dumb, to most people. I know you’d get it. I know you’d be relieved, I can almost feel it.

I know, you didn’t really want to do, You were such a freaking smart arse, thought you knew everything. Thought you would have time.

But, my, didn’t you fight. You know how proud I am of that, of you? I told you, in the hospital, I’m sure you heard, one way or another. You lasted 4 days. They didn’t even give you 24 hours when they admitted you.

You fought. Your tried to come back. I know that. because I know you wouldn’t have left me, not rationally, never on purpose.

‘Ab infito, in infintium’. Or something like that. That was what you had, inscribed on your back, for me. Latin, for “From the beginning, to infinity, without end.”

For me.

Damn. This hurts so much, it’s comforting. I keep coming back to it, like playing with a niggly tooth when you were a kid. Or Vegemite on a mouth ulcer. It hurts, but you can’t help it. because it feels so damn good.

For a month now, you see, all I have been able to see is you spitting at me, calling me names. The hate ion your eyes, how much you detested me.

But now? My memories are so full of you, it’s almost like the very weight of them should metamorphosis into something solid, into something real.

You’re so thick in my memories, every day is like walking through a fog of you. Stupid things. Little things.

You played board games with me, remember? You hated them. I get it. Not everyone is into board games like I am. But you played them anyway, just to make me smile.

And you bought me Slurpees.The last one you bought me is still in the freezer, I think. You bought it home, without me asking. Just to make me smile.

Our kids miss you. Like crazy. Chop, of course, especially. He loves you so much. he’s missing his best mate, his daddy, his idol. His measure of what a boy should be, a man should be.

I imagine, wherever you are, you’ve shed some tears over that. So have i.

The night we got engaged, middle of winter, floating in our spa, set to as warm as we get it, me with fish white, round and pregnant belly, that you loved, and would hold and rub at every occasion. And you turned tome and said “I wonder what all the happy people are doing tonight?” And all I could was laugh.

And when we got married. How awesome was that? We said, time and time again, it was the best party we’d ever thrown, the most fun we’d ever had. And you, you didn’t ask for anything, nothing, except for me to wear a veil, so you lift it up. And you told me, alter, that you tried to male it the most romantic moment of my life.

And it was. Right up there with the day we first- not the time you vomited, the one after that. Because I looked at you, and you looked at me, and that was it. Love at second or third sight. Seriously, I looked at you and went “That’s the man I will marry”.

And I know you thought the same. Woman, not man, obviously, but… you know what I mean.

There’s so much I need to say to you, need to tell you. I know you loved me. OK? I think you know that. I think wherever you are, you’re at peace. Kicking yourself with frustration, perhaps, at having left us, but at peace. And with people you love. And all that stress, gone. You worked so freaking hard, almost every day for twenty years. You told me so often how sore your feet and back were. That’s a comfort, I think. To know that you’re not so bloody uncomfortable in your own body anymore.

I’ve been swimming a lot. I love it. The silence, the weightlessness. But I think you can see me. I know you’re with me. I can feel you. Not as strongly now, after the funeral. But I still feel you around.

And that ring. That bleeping gold ring, that cost me a fortune!! And I knew you’d lost it, but I didn’t want to ask. I’d get angry, you’d feel bad.

Nine months, it was missing for. And then, as you no doubt already know, it popped out of the toaster, two days after you died. The toaster. Seriously, babe, you have a warped sense of humour.

Now, I know, you don’t read my blog. But, some days, you made the exception. You left me a comment just two days before you died, remember? About Megan Gale. I do hope there is some cutely pregnant Megan Gale look-alike up there with you, hun, taking care of you till I get there- it’ll be a while. Not sure your Nan would approve, but tell her it’s OK with me, OK?

But I know you’re reading this. I can feel it, feel you right here. And yes, I’m smoking your cigarettes. I know, I should’ve sent some with you. Sorry. But I did give you boxer shorts to change into. And undies to wear under your shorts. I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Silly, I know, but true.

I’m guessing you’re OK with me publishing this. If not, the bleeping computer would shut down, or something. And we’ll leave comments on, cause, hey, you’re a bit of a show pony. Just like me.

You were so awesome, you know that? Probably still are. And I loved- still do-every inch of you. From your almost-shaved head (you know I preferred it longer!) to your ugly craggly toes.

You were my best mate. I miss laughing with you, the most. You always made me laugh, without fail, every time. We were such good friends, babe. I’m not only missing my husband. I’m missing my best friend.

OK. I love you. I wish you could let me know, some way, that you’re at peace. You did, I know, you left me a sign when you were going, but I wish we’d organised one for now, for later. Just so I know you’re OK, you’re at peace, not in pain, not hating yourself. Because I don’t hate you. not for one second. A few people have asked me “How can you forgive him for this?”

But there’s nothing to forgive. Everyone does dumb things. But most people are luckier with the consequences, is all.

And I’d forgive you anything, whatever it was. I’ve always told you that.

I’m so sorry. For everything, every bad word, every fight. Every second I didn’t spend with you, that I could have, should have. But I thought we had all the time in the world. And I think you did, too.

Love you. Like the moon and the stars and all that over stuff.

Catch ya on the flip side. Houso.


post signature

Leave a Comment

CommentLuv badge

{ 94 comments… read them below or add one }

Louisa February 10, 2011 at 7:59 am

The most heart wrenching love letter I have ever read – just beautiful.

Keep finding the courage, you are truly amazing. xx


JallieDaddy February 7, 2011 at 9:43 pm



Sarah February 7, 2011 at 8:06 pm

Aahh Lori. What a beautiful love. The tears are rolling down my cheeks. xx


Tai Tai February 7, 2011 at 7:52 pm

Geez – hand is still over my mouth in awe at the honesty you write with. It's amazing. And not creepy at all – whatever you gotta do to get through it. There's no rule book. And what a sign – the ring in the toaster? Wow. Wow. Wow.


Cate February 7, 2011 at 4:59 am

I'm speechless.

Just beautiful.


Veggie Mama February 6, 2011 at 4:52 pm

I LOVE THIS!! <3 <3


Rell February 6, 2011 at 10:35 am

Lori, that letter made me cry!
I'm only a newbie to your blog but your honesty keeps drawing me back to read more. You made me think about the "what ifs"…what if this happened to me, what if I was in this kind of situation?…thank-you for putting my life into persepctive and making me appreciate my husband that little bit more :) I'm so sorry you have to go through all this, but I do appreciate you sharing your personal journey with us all….stay strong! xo


Shelley February 6, 2011 at 7:52 pm

i hope one day i can catch a glimpse of this kind of deep induring love.


Kylie February 6, 2011 at 8:48 am

That is one of the most beautiful love letters I have ever read.
I loved your Vlog too, your strength and beauty is plain to see Lori. Sending love to you, your kids and Tony.


susie @newdaynewlesson February 6, 2011 at 4:49 am

Lots of hugs. Nothing else i can say other than I know that all the sentiments in this letter your husband knows and feels.


Anonymous February 6, 2011 at 3:35 am

Beautiful letter, Lori.

I'm crying over here for you and Tony.

So glad to hear you found the ring. Might that be
the sign you are looking for?

Sending you lots of love from Florida.


Acacia February 6, 2011 at 3:23 am

Oh, it's so positive, and full of love! It's beautiful and very moving, Lori.

You say how unlucky Tony was with the consequences to his actions on that day, but you have also just given another glimpse of just how lucky he was and is to have your love – for you to have the love you had for one another. So bittersweet.

I hope that there are many more signs that he gives to provide comfort and reassurance for you.

Much love to you.


tinsenpup February 6, 2011 at 2:00 am

You have such amazing insight. I'm so glad that you can see it all for what it was; a terrible tragic mistake. I know it's hard to believe, but it really won't be unbearable forever.


Anonymous February 6, 2011 at 1:16 am

They don't like it? Fuck 'em.

Thinking of you over and over.


Kylie February 5, 2011 at 11:42 pm

Your letter was beautiful.
And inspiring.
Thank you.


Cate February 5, 2011 at 11:19 pm

that was beautiful. Nothing creepy at all. You still have so much you didn't get to say, it's only right that you should say them :-)


Mia Dickinson February 6, 2011 at 9:30 am

I´ve only just got to your blog Lori. The last month´s entrances are completely heartbreaking. Stay strong and remember the good times.

The ring made an appearance for a reason.


River February 5, 2011 at 10:28 pm

Such a beautiful love letter Lori. I wish I had the words to say what this has made me feel.
Remember that line from the movie Ghost?
"the love you feel? – you take it with you."
So wherever Tony is, he still loves you.


Naturally Carol February 5, 2011 at 10:02 pm

Hi Lori, I love the way you are remembering and writing to the 'best Tony', the one he really was without the demons, the one who really loved you..deeply and truly. That thing that tries to convince us that we are different and unlovable and worth leaving is a liar…it speaks to many of us…the same lie. Don't believe it…you are loved..wonderfully…just the way you are. Lots of hugz…Carol xox


thepixiechick February 5, 2011 at 9:35 pm

so much love to you.
Thanks for posting this… as one of the people who wondered how you could forgive him, reading this I can understand.
thinking of you always xoxoxo


x0xJ February 5, 2011 at 8:54 pm

Gah, i need to put of emailing you. Doing that now.


Anonymous February 5, 2011 at 8:04 pm


Rebecca February 5, 2011 at 8:03 pm

Writting letters is a wonderful way to keep moving on. Its a beautiful letter and you got your sign when you found the ring.


Becky February 5, 2011 at 7:41 pm

Beautiful, Lori. With tears and love xo


deardarl February 5, 2011 at 5:56 pm

I could have written this.
Well actually, most nights I do write my own version on my blog.
It's a need to talk to them again. Just like they'd arrived home after a verrrrry long day at work.
The swimming – I so get that. Alone in your own head-space, floating, free, calm. Swimming really helps me too.
….as does the letter writing.
Those signs are hard to spot, but I've seen them too. Greg made me rainbows. Seriously.


Maxabella February 5, 2011 at 5:27 pm

Yeah, okay. Bit creepy. But kinda lovely too. x


Being Me February 5, 2011 at 4:56 pm

Beautifully expressed. As always.


Brenda February 5, 2011 at 4:48 pm

Tears in my eyes, punkin. Love you.xxxxx


Glowless @ Where’s My Glow February 5, 2011 at 4:34 pm


The toaster? Wow.


Bec @ Bad Mummy February 5, 2011 at 4:22 pm

This was a really wonderful, lovely read Lori. I love that the ring came out of the toaster, how weird is that! Very cool :)

Lots of love :D


Langdowns February 5, 2011 at 4:08 pm

Wow! Absolutely beautiful.


Jacki February 5, 2011 at 3:04 pm

Beautiful post. Seriously.


Hear Mum Roar February 5, 2011 at 1:25 pm

He's listening! Your love for each other is beautiful:)


Draft Queen February 5, 2011 at 1:16 pm

This was so sweet. I have written many public (via my blog) letters to my dead best friend. It helped me and I hoped it helped you too.


Ms Styling You February 5, 2011 at 12:56 pm

I love this Lori … so beautiful and heartfelt.


jessicajamey February 5, 2011 at 12:49 pm

Lori, I've been following you for a while now, started a couple of weeks in the Before. You are so very strong, so very eloquent, so loving. I love you without knowing you, and I thank you so much for being so real. Thank you for letting us share in your life.

And don't worry about signs. They tend to come at you when you least expect them, but most need them.

Stay strong.


Lucy February 5, 2011 at 12:41 pm

Crying. I write to my brother all the time. It si the best therapy. And they do read, and they do send signs.


Kazz February 5, 2011 at 12:04 pm

Lori… I am a silent reader and never commented before … the box sits in front of me and I plan to write, but it all seems so inadequate. Nonetheless I have been sending my love and often think of you and hope you are doing as well as you can. I loved this post. I don't think it's creepy. To have found the love, to recognise that Tony was not himself and it was an error in judgement… it's all just further proof (in addition to the vlog) that you are dealing with things amazingly. that comforts me, and more importantly, I hope it does you too


Toushka Lee February 5, 2011 at 11:43 am

you're amazing. awesome letter. I have nothing to say that hasn't been said. much love. xoxo


Kakka February 5, 2011 at 11:20 am

Wherever Tony is, he knows. Keep writing these beautiful letters Lori, they are a beautiful tribute to your love. xxx


Deb February 5, 2011 at 11:02 am

I have a candle burning on the table today for the mother of my son's girlfriend who killed herself 8 years ago today. Thank you for sharing your story, it's helping me help Ashleigh.
And the ring out of the toaster? what the heck! that's a sign if ever there was one!!
love and hugs deb xx


Anonymous February 5, 2011 at 10:04 am

Beautiful words. Oh and that ring popping out of the toaster? What a sign!



Car February 5, 2011 at 9:51 am

Absolutely beautiful xxx
From someone who wrote a letter to her nan telling her about her funeral, No, dont think its creepy at all. You have summed up the relationship you both had and it was beatiful to read, thank you for sharing xxx


Andrea February 5, 2011 at 9:50 am

sending all my hugging/build you up/ make you feel better/help you through this energy i can muster. hug


l-tek-4 February 5, 2011 at 9:46 am

This is such a beautiful post, Lori. I loved reading it and I know Tony would love it, too. I think you're so right about it just being a mistake, almost an impulse, because Tony would have thought he'd have more time. 4 days of trying to fight his way back to you and the kids is amazing.

The ring as the sign in the toaster? That gave me chills, woman! (in a good way) I love how you are counting so much happiness, all the memories filling you, as you said, they are solid, tangible, can-almost-taste-it things.

I just cannot stress how gorgeous this letter is; I laughed, I cried, it's tremendously moving and beautiful. I hope it was cleansing for you to write it and that you're able to carry a bit of that happiness that shines off you through the weekend.

Much love,


Angie February 5, 2011 at 9:45 am

Ah, I loved this post. It made me cry. But a mixture of happy/sad tears. I am glad you do not seem so angry today… of course you have every right to but this seems to be a better mood. A more productive mood. I think being angry will block all the positive energy that is coming your way. From beyond. I pray for you to have peace.


Donna @ Nappydaze February 5, 2011 at 9:04 am

Oh Lori you simply take my breath away. I could feel every inch of your longing, your love. Its so real and raw and I wish with every inch of my heart that you still had your soul mate to hold.

Keep looking for the signs (the ring is an AMAZING one, gave me shivers down the spine) because he will never be far from you, he is drawn too closely with your own spirit to every stray from you. And your children will eternally have a guardian angel to guide them. Not nearly as freakin good as a Daddy who I know we'd all prefer, but still, hope they find peace somehow in that.

I've said it before and will say it again: You are the most inspirational and amazing woman I know!


edenland February 5, 2011 at 8:52 am

Oh Lori. It's like, straight from your Soul to his ….. and vice- versa. And we are all standing next to you, mesmerized and haunted by the beauty of your words. xxoo


Naomi @ Under the Yardarm February 5, 2011 at 8:46 am

Beautiful. xxx


nataliya February 5, 2011 at 7:53 am

I love it, I love how you are writing to him and shared it. He is a goose. AND you are doing amazing, just amazing.

Have shared your blog on FB obviously I know this isn't a problem as you blog!


Clarinda February 5, 2011 at 7:45 am

Such a beautiful letter of love. Of passion, of friendship. You should be proud Lori. xx


Glen February 5, 2011 at 7:37 am

beautifully said


Amy xxoo February 5, 2011 at 7:35 am

A love letter to the man you love? How can anyone be creeped out by that? I myself think its gorgeous.
Oh, and also – the next time i lose something the first place i'm going to look is the toaster!


Vee February 5, 2011 at 7:33 am

This is beautiful. I also wrote to my dead husband it helped with healing and grieving. Keep it up.


Salamander February 5, 2011 at 7:19 am

Oh god, Lori, you're incredible!! Seriously an amazing woman.

And Tony – what a pisser. The toaster!! Love it. Couldn't have been more obvious if he tried. Your sign will come – if he's already pulling tricks like the toaster, goodness knows what he's got up his sleeve.

Much love to you all xxxxxx


lifeofadoctorswife February 5, 2011 at 7:10 am

Beautiful. Your forgiveness and your love are… awe-inspiring.


Kimberly February 5, 2011 at 7:02 am

That touched me deeply. It made me cry like crazy but it made me smile too. That is love, there. And I really believe he knows.


Jewell February 5, 2011 at 6:55 am

{{{{ Lori }}}} Well I am bawling like a baby at the moment, and can't really see through the tears so forgive if I miss typos…just sending this to tell you that I don't know you, but I love you. This was beautiful and not in the least creepy. I say "Fuck 'em" if someone can't handle how you cope with things…it's your journey (as crappy as it is) and your blog…do what feels right. I'm so happy that Tony's still with you and watching over you and the kiddos. xoxo


Breanne February 5, 2011 at 5:09 pm

Wow. Just WOW! Crying reading your words. You have been to hell and back, and have a million reasons to be so angry, and yet this letter shows more love than I've ever read before. So eloquent. So beautiful.
I believe in signs and I believe no one ever really leaves our side. They are at peace. They don't worry about earthly things, but they are there for us. Something tells me the cigarettes and especially the ring was a sign. I mean, how does a ring get into a toaster anyway? He's with you. Always.



bloodsigns February 5, 2011 at 5:30 am

Thank you.

You know I felt my father with me until my joy shone through my long held grief — and then he went on to wherever we go.

I believe your Tony's spirit (or whatever you might call it) will be there with you … for as long as you need and want… love doesn't dissipate…




lori February 5, 2011 at 5:22 am

I'm sneaking a read at your blog while I'm at work and I feel like I've just evesdropped.
So beautiful.


Heather February 5, 2011 at 5:18 am

Absolutely love this….

'Ab infito, in infintium' – "From the beginning, to infinity, without end."


Thank you for sharing your letter to Tony. It makes my heart ache to read it, but it shows your strength.

We've never met, but still thinking of you, hoping the best for you.


Wanderlust February 5, 2011 at 5:11 am



Kristina Hughes February 5, 2011 at 4:26 am

Woah – that is the best love letter I've ever read. Beautiful. Amazing. Pretty speechless, for once! Lots of love to you, Lori xx


Wendy B. February 5, 2011 at 4:13 am

Hi Lori,

What an amazing letter you wrote…I am sure Tony is reading it and loving every word.

It's so nice to read your wonderful memories….I really hope you get your sign soon.

Love, Wendy


Melissa February 5, 2011 at 3:59 am

I feel I shouldn't comment because this is so beautiful and private but I want to tell you that you remain in my thoughts, in my prayers and on my mind.


Toni February 5, 2011 at 2:56 pm

Like spiralmumma, I feel a bit like I've blundered in on something so private, so intimate, so very very beautiful, that I'm going to just tiptoe away.


Cassondra February 5, 2011 at 3:43 am

Wow, I'm in tears, at work, hope nobody walks by. I feel like I'm reading something so personal, like a diary of your innermost secrets, or even like a fly on the wall as you talk to him. Thanks so much for sharing, still praying for you.


Anonymous February 5, 2011 at 3:31 am

Oh Lori. Oh Lori…he was your soulmate. I know he was because you just wrote exactly how I love my husband. I don't believe in God or religion, but soulmates…well, how can someone feel like the other half of you and it NOT be something more than just this one life on earth, huh? Tony will always be with you and when it's all over you'll back together.

Of course, I've got nooooo frakking how it works :) But it has to.

Sniffly love, Sophie xxx


Dazee Dreamer February 5, 2011 at 3:29 am

That was beautiful. And I know that he is with you and your kids, watching over you.


Megan February 5, 2011 at 2:46 am

Thank you for sharing this with us. We know it's not "for" us.

By the way, I agree with Miss Ruby. That sign you're hoping for? The ring in the toaster, Lori. The ring. He made sure you found it. I have no doubt. He's with you.


flask February 5, 2011 at 2:29 am

gah. now i'm crying.

as for letters to the dead being creepy, not so much.

i knew a woman a long time ago who knew she was dying. she spent her last year making pies and casseroles to put in the three extra large freezers she'd bought.

so her husband would have something to eat.

and a couple of years after she died, sometimes he would bring a pie to a party and someone would say "wow, dick. this is good pie."

and he's say: "thanks. sue made it."

kind of a conversation stopper.


Melissa February 5, 2011 at 2:28 am

That's beautiful.

And from someone who started her blog as a letter to her dead mother, I don't find it creepy at all. ;-)

Honestly, a beautiful talk to your man.


marketingtomilk February 5, 2011 at 2:27 am

just gorgeous Lori. real, honest, raw.



A Daft Scots Lass February 5, 2011 at 2:25 am

Even if he doesn't read your blog, he feels every word. You said it yourself…


In Real Life February 5, 2011 at 2:23 am

Beautiful, Lori. *HUGS*


Teacher Mommy February 5, 2011 at 2:21 am



Katie February 5, 2011 at 2:10 am



Michaela February 5, 2011 at 2:07 am

thinking of you, lori. thank you for sharing this.


Jess February 5, 2011 at 1:52 am

That was so incredibly heartfelt. There is no way he didn't feel that…he knows. XOXO


Anonymous February 5, 2011 at 1:47 am

I've been a secret reader for a few weeks now, after stumbling onto your blog and reading your painful journey.. I've always wanted to comment and send some love and prayers, but I didn't feel it was my place as I don't know you. But this letter really made me cry, it was just so beautiful. Even though you're carrying so much pain, your words are so touching and so full of love, for someone who hurt you so much, albeit unintentionally. I hope one day I can be as strong as you, and love others with this much fervour too, despite anything they may've done to me. Good luck on your journey, stay strong. I'm sure your Tony is looking down on you and your babies, and hopefully you'll get your sign soon. Beautiful writing.

Many prayers and love, Lauren – Sydney


Tone-in-Oz February 5, 2011 at 1:35 am

Nice one- I could not put words together after I lost my Tarn- keep it Up. TonyF


Mich February 5, 2011 at 1:35 am

I meant *everyone* not acetone. Stupid auto correct!


Barbara February 5, 2011 at 1:34 am

Such a beautiful letter. I hope you get your sign soon. xxx


Mich February 5, 2011 at 1:33 am

Oh Lori, beautifully written. The love you guys have is amazing. It's what acetone should have at some point in their lives.

Take care Sweetness. Xoxo


Miss Ruby February 5, 2011 at 1:32 am

just beautiful lori.

the ring and the toaster – no doubts there at all, it was meant to make its appearance at that moment.

and he can hear you, see you, never forget that.

many hugs – you're doing fabulously lovely lady even if you dont think so yourself – you are



Melissa *Suger Coat It* February 5, 2011 at 1:21 am

Beautiful Lori.


Mrs Woog February 5, 2011 at 11:41 am

Love it Lori.

If you have time, check out http://deardarl.wordpress.com/ if you feel like it xoxo


Good Golly Miss Holly! February 5, 2011 at 7:52 am

Lori, some people spend their whole lives searching for the kind of love you and Tony have. The icing on the cake here? Calling him a houso. Yep, I just choked on my coffee!


Boni February 5, 2011 at 7:14 am


I have been hugging my own 3 year old daughter tighter and telling my husband "I love you" more often after reading your posts. Thank you for having the courage to continue writing.


Madmother February 5, 2011 at 5:44 am

Oh, the signs. I love the signs we receive to let us know they are still here, watching, loving, holding us safe.


Kim ~ One Nutty Mama February 5, 2011 at 4:35 am

Thank you for sharing with us. It made me have a very honest conversation with my husband about depression and suicide. Thank you for having the strength.
You have a beautiful soul. Keep up the journey that you have let us join you on.
I hurt so deeply to think of your last day with him and am proud of your ability to still love him so fully, despite all you have endured.


Rhi@FlourChild February 5, 2011 at 1:31 am

I am in awe of you having such a sense of humour, and an ability to write like this after all the stuff you're going through.
That's a great letter. Tony will be kicking himself even more after reading it ;) I hope you get the sign you are needing.
I love your blog Lori, and I hope you keep writing this all down.
Rhi x


Spiralmumma February 5, 2011 at 1:30 am

I feel like I've come across something beautiful and private. Full of heartbreaking passion. Slipping out quietly… Much love to you both xxx


Previous post:

Next post: